


You Wouldn't

by ambivalentlangst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ;)), Dark!Lance, Gen, Lance's bayard changes forms, Langst, Random Galra - Freeform, Takes place sometime after 'Shiro' comes back in S3, also emotionally drained, he kills a dude, lance centric, lance is homesick, mature for implied violence, not really dark but morally ambiguous, somebody get this boy a long nap and a decent moisturizer please, tw: implied death/violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentlangst/pseuds/ambivalentlangst
Summary: "You wouldn't.""Watch me."





	You Wouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that one shitpost going around and my own desire to watch the world burn, have Lance within the grey area of morally corrupt like I feel everyone in Voltron would/should be if the show was targeted at an older audience. Enjoy!

Lance was a good kid, undeniably so. If a little spoiled he always was kind, offering a hand to kids in class or setting food out for the stray animals in the neighborhood. Sure he did the normal dumb kid stuff like saying things he didn’t quite mean or getting into a fight or two, but at the end of the day he’d come home and kiss his mom on the cheek with a smile lighting up his face. Still, even someone like Lance couldn’t bear the weight of the universe without cracking. Staring down the barrel of his gun, that was very apparent.

What to do, what to do with a Galra general? 

Lance couldn’t remember the man’s name very well. They hadn’t even really planned on running into him. It was a simple reconnaissance mission, supposed to slip in and out without a hitch. Lance happened to get lucky on his way out.

“Paladin of Voltron,” the man begged softly, while Lance’s keen eyes watched his clawed hand slowly and he supposed to the general, discreetly reach behind his back to try and grab a blade. He continued, his gravelly voice low and urgent like Lance was a wild animal he was trying to escape from without setting off. “Put your gun down. Aren’t you a defender of the universe? We can talk, can’t we?”

Lance listened carefully, shifting his aim a little to zero in on the hand that was working on undoing the strap on the blade’s sheath.

”Not to be rude, general, but if you were really wanting to talk I don’t think you’d be fumbling for a knife,” he responded evenly, his blue eyes somehow incredibly cold despite the warm magenta basking the room in light. It was interesting, the change between the Lance of his team and the Lance of solitude. He was a good kid, but he’d begun to wear thin under duress. The creature laughed nervously, the hand stilling.

”Precautions, paladin. You’ll forgive me if I don’t feel the most secure right now, right?” Lance wondered what his leader would think about this. Shiro, the good cop. He would tell him to knock him out, or maybe bring him back to the castle for questioning. But Shiro was gone, and in his place was Keith. Not a bad leader, and he at least recognized him beyond a last minute compliment. Still, Keith was prickly despite his best efforts. He snapped much more than Shiro did, though Lance didn’t blame him. It was hard on everyone to have the former pilot of the black lion gone. Keith, the bad cop. Lance remembered very clearly how he’d taken the Olkari’s former king hostage. Still, neither were here right now. Lance’s comms weren’t even on. For the moment the only person he had to listen to was himself.

”You’ll forgive me if I think that’s a load of shit, right?” Lance replied. It was eery, how his snark had been toned down to roll off his tongue in such a methodical, droll way. So unlike his normal sparkling wit and playful jabs. There was a point when Lance had lost the energy to be upbeat on his own. His reserves of cheer had been depleted, so he scrounged up whatever he could muster around his team. It was hard, when the vastness of space was a constant reminder of how far from home he was.

”I can see I’ve upset you. Let me go, and I’ll give whatever you like. Intel, money. Even women, if that’s what you want. Come on, blue. I’m defenseless. I can’t even defend myself if you try to shoot me.” Somewhere during the time the general had drawled on, words scraping against his massive teeth as he spoke and tainting them with the things Lance knew he’d done, his rifle had changed to a handgun. Pretty close to an Earthen pistol, actually. Amazing, how even his bayard knew there was somewhere he’d rather be. “You wouldn’t,” the general insisted.

Lance’s eyes didn’t move from the man he had hostage. A thousand images of battle he’d seen from his time in space flashed behind his eyes, of screaming and blood splattering the ground. True, he had never seen this Galra in action. Had no knowledge of what he’d done throughout his career. Still, Lance knew enough. He was a general, wasn’t he? Lance would never claim to be innocent, but he valued his cause over this abomination’s. The boy stepped closer and pressed the cold surface of the weapon against the alien’s forehead while his finger curled around the trigger like it was embracing an old friend. Even good kids had a breaking point.

”Watch me.”


End file.
